


There and Back Again

by Decepticonsensual



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 04:02:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1968246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decepticonsensual/pseuds/Decepticonsensual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Expedition".  Mirage and Hound continue their exploration of Earth's natural beauty - and of one another.  More the latter than the former, really.  Sticky, PWP; warning for verrrry slight power play.  This was written based on a request from Rim-runner420 on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There and Back Again

As they slept, the sun rose higher, burning off the last of the mist, and the pink tint faded from the waterfall, replaced by a blinding flash of gold.

Mirage woke in the middle of a steamy afternoon.  Disentangling himself from Hound as quietly as he could, he rose and padded out of the cave, pausing to take in the view below him:  the jungle vista was all lushly alien greens and golds, the similarities with Cybertron having vanished in the light.

This world wasn’t home, no.  But it didn’t feel as…  _wrong_ as it had when he’d first awoken on Earth, either.  There was something in its greens and browns that was beginning to remind him of Hound’s olive-drab plating, just a little.  Beautiful, but also solid and, increasingly, familiar.

As long as he held onto the belief that they would make it back home someday, he could almost grow fond of this place.

Mirage stretched lazily in the heat.  Inside the cave, he could hear Hound beginning to stir.  “Come on, my love.  We should be off this mountain before it gets dark again.” 

“Mmmmfff,” Hound complained.  Mirage poked his head back in through the wall of water, noticing how good it felt on his sticky, overheated plating.  It gave him an idea.

“Why don’t you show me the rest of your waterfall?”

“Hmmm?”  Hound seemed marginally more awake now, as he rolled over and blinked bleary optics at his partner.  “What rest of it?”

“The bottom.  There’s a pool down at the base, isn’t there?  We could go for a –” what was the Earth term? “– a swim.  You could use it, to be honest.”  He sliced his hand through the water, sending an arc of spray over Hound’s frame.  Beads of water spattered his scraped, muddied chest, and clung to his transfluid-stained thighs.

Hound grinned ruefully, glancing down at himself, then scrambled to his feet and bowed extravagantly towards the cave entrance.  “After you, Mirage.”

His mate’s optics narrowed briefly in suspicion, but Mirage nodded and turned to leave –

– and then suddenly leapt to the side, just managing to avoid the handful of water Hound flung at him from behind.

Mirage glanced back over his shoulder and chuckled indulgently.  “You’ll have to do better than  _that_ if you want to catch a spec ops agent off-guard, my little –”

That was when the second handful hit him full in the face.

***

By the time they began the walk down the mountain, they were both dripping wet, and the humid air meant the moisture clung to their plating.  Mirage spent the walk griping good-naturedly to a thoroughly unrepentant Hound.

It was early evening before they reached the spot where the water tumbled into a deep pool, ice-cold thanks to the jungle shade and ringed by a tiny beach of silver-grey pebbles.  Mirage didn’t hesitate before flopping by the side of the water and easing his legs into the pool, hissing as the pleasurable sting of cold reached his overheated mechanisms.

Hound knelt on the bank and splashed cool water over his face, then started sluicing down his arms and legs.  Mirage watched him for a moment – those broad, capable hands moving deftly over scarred, beloved plating – before lowering himself into the water and kicking off from the side.  Cybertronians were too dense to float in water, the way humans could, and Mirage had to admit that he envied them that ability; but swimming was a different matter.  Most Cybertronians, once they got used to the strangeness of it, found they had no problem propelling themselves through or under the water.  A few were able to do it almost silently, given enough practice.

Mirage, of course, was one of them.  Hound started and glanced around wildly when he suddenly heard his mate’s voice from the other side of the pool, instead of right beside him.  “Not that we’re in any hurry, Hound, but I could probably  _lick_ you clean faster than that.”  Mirage’s smirk was just visible above the waterline.  “Why don’t you join me?  A full-body dip is quicker, and much more enjoyable, I promise you.”

To his surprise, Hound looked distinctly uncomfortable.  “Swimming’s not really my thing, ’Raj.  I love splashing around in the water –”

“I’d never have guessed,” Mirage returned drily.

“Just not… going all the way in.  Or, you know.  Underneath.”

_Oh._

Mirage squeezed his optics shut.   _Of course._ The hydropower plant – their first battle on Earth.  Mirage could still picture Optimus standing atop the dam, braced against Megatron’s charge.  And Hound; Hound’s awful, gurgling cry as Rumble pounced on him, dragging him under the water, devious fingers ripping at Hound’s circuitry, then trapping him on the riverbed as his exposed and damaged engine began to flood…

Hound’s expression was distant, until a touch against his hand made him jump.  Once again, he hadn’t heard Mirage move, but the spy’s head was now poking out of the water right next to Hound’s knee, and Mirage was nuzzling his cheek over his mate’s hand as it rested on the bank.  “This little side jaunt of mine was a rather thoughtless suggestion, wasn’t it?”

“No, sweetspark.  You were right; it  _is_ beautiful down here.  I wouldn’t have missed it.”  Hound curled his fingers and brushed his knuckles over Mirage’s cheek.  “Besides, I’d go swimming in the open ocean if I had to, to get a chance to watch you with your plating all wet.”

“Mmmm.  Like that, do you?”  Bracing his hands on the bank, Mirage levered himself out of the pool, and Hound’s vents all but stalled out.  The water was  _streaming_ off him, cool rivulets tracing every lean, spare line of the racecar’s body, and turning the blue and white shockingly vivid.  Mirage made a show of tossing his head, and slowly licked a stray droplet off his upper lip.

Like this, he and Hound were almost optic-to-optic, and Hound just caught the mischievous flare in his mate’s gaze before Mirage lowered his head to press a lingering kiss to the cabling of Hound’s throat.  It drew a shiver from him; Mirage’s lips were startlingly cool from the water, especially against the hectic heat sizzling through Hound’s circuits.

“I did –”  Mirage punctuated every few words with a kiss, trailing lower and lower, pushing Hound back onto his aft as he went.  “Say something – about licking – you – clean –didn’t I?”  He reached his mate’s panel, and Hound outright groaned as the combination of cool mouth and warm ventilations teased him unbearably.  But just as quickly, the feeling was snatched away, and Mirage was moving again, climbing fully out of the water.  He did so by grabbing Hound’s hips and pulling himself up, making sure to grind every inch of their frames together hard in the process.  Hound’s own plating was still damp from his wash, and the slick metal of their bodies slid together deliciously, laced with the faintest touch of pain wherever the edges of their plating scraped or caught.  Lost in the sensation, Hound blinked up in confusion to find Mirage standing over him, his hips level with Hound’s optics.

“But I think I want to feel your mouth on me first.  What do you say to that, my pet?”  One elegant hand ghosted over Mirage’s panel, more showing it off than stroking it; the other hand wrapped around the back of Hound’s helm, fingertips digging in and tracing soothing little circles. 

Hound’s engine revved at the deep, commanding note in his mate’s voice.  Sometimes, that tone made him want to rebel against Mirage’s control for the sake of it, just to see the surprise on his face, but other times… other times, it just made him want to roll over and beg. 

Like now.  Hound nodded frantically, and was rewarded when Mirage’s panel clicked open for him.  The spike was half-pressurised, but it hardened rapidly as Hound took it in his mouth; Mirage hissed and curled in on himself as sharply as if he’d been shot, but his voice was all breathless pleasure.  “ _Frag,_ Hound,  _yes_.”  Hound didn’t quite have his mate’s skill, but made up for it in enthusiasm.  He drew his mouth slowly down the length of Mirage’s spike, exploring every ridge and every pretty biolight, before pulling off with a wet pop, and lapping eagerly at the sensitive metal.  One hand came up to cup Mirage’s aft, guiding his hips forward as Hound swallowed his spike once more, and Mirage gave an approving hum and covered Hound’s hand with his own, tightening their combined grip.  Mirage’s other hand lingered on his mate’s helm, stroking and scratching at hidden seams in a way that made Hound’s optics go heavy-lidded.  He responded by sucking harder, and Mirage actually cried out.  “So good, love, that’s so good!  Hound –  _Hound,_ I’m going to –”

Hound sat back on his heels, face turned up and lips parted, and met Mirage’s startled, pleased optics for a second before shuttering his own.  He felt the hot splash of Mirage’s transfluid along his cheek, then across and into his open mouth, and he licked his lips extravagantly.  Mirage groaned helplessly at the sight.

“Such a good pet,” Mirage breathed.  One hand cradled Hound’s cheek, as he cracked his optics open and took in Mirage’s warm, wicked grin.  Almost delicately, Hound leaned forward and slid his lips along Mirage’s spike once more, easing him through the aftershocks, before breaking off with a kiss to his mate’s thigh.

“Your pet.”

“ _My_ pet.”  Mirage crouched so that they were optic-to-optic, his expression suddenly serious.  “My beloved.”

Hound kissed him, and it seemed as though they lingered for ages, languidly exploring the familiar contours of one another’s mouths.

Eventually, though, Mirage broke the kiss to press his forehead to Hound’s.  “I think my pretty pet is still running hot, aren’t you?”  His fingers trailed down Hound’s grill to stop just above his panel.  “What would you like, Hound?”

“You.  Your mouth, all over me – my valve, my spike – and –”  Hound was flushing slightly again, and it made Mirage’s engine purr, that the same mech who had just knelt and practically begged to be splattered with transfluid could get so flustered just  _saying the words._ “And I want your valve, at the same time.”

“At the same time?”  Mirage quirked a brow ridge.  “I’m not sure even _I’m_ that flexible.”

Hound laughed a little self-consciously.  “I meant that I want to taste your valve, while you’re… licking mine.”

“Mmmmm.  Can’t get enough of me, can you?”  The tease was affectionate, but there was something dark and hungry underneath Mirage’s voice.  “Lie back, pet.”

Hound settled himself on the stony beach, and tilted his head back, gazing up at the jungle canopy and the scant patch of sky beyond it, where energon-pink was just beginning to creep in at the edges of the blue.  He brought a hand up dreamily to help his mate settle into position over him.  This way, he had easy access to Mirage’s valve – slick and over-sensitive from his last overload – and was also in the perfect position to run his hands greedily over the graceful curve of Mirage’s spoiler and thumb the delicate circuitry in the seam of his hip.

Mirage moaned openly at the touch, and Hound pressed a wet kiss to the outer lips of his valve, before parting them with his glossa and dipping inside.  Shivering in delight, Mirage leaned forward and nuzzled at the base of Hound’s spike.  He dragged the flat of his glossa up the shaft and began to suckle on the tip.  The sudden roar of Hound’s engine shuddered through them both, and Mirage chuckled softly around the spike, grinding down harder on Hound’s face, riding the vibrations.

Hound couldn’t stay still; his feet kicked out, digging grooves into the stony bank, as he licked and slurped at his mate’s warm valve, and felt Mirage move on to Hound’s valve in turn.  The spy wrapped one hand loosely over Hound’s spike, more teasing than properly stroking, as that talented glossa tortured every sensor node Hound’s valve had.  Hound made an urgent sound in the back of his throat, bucking his hips up –  _no, don’t draw it out, please, please!_

Mirage took pity on him and began to pump his spike in earnest, working his valve more deeply, and it wasn’t long before Hound’s systems all but exploded in overload.  He arched back, almost dislodging Mirage – who clung on through sheer determination – and cried out against Mirage’s valve.  The vibration of the sound and the violent shaking of Hound’s frame pushed Mirage over the edge with an ecstatic shout.

Silence crept back in slowly, only the rustling of the leaves and the occasional cry of a bird disturbing the thick, warm air.

“So,” Mirage eventually murmured against Hound’s shoulder, “I bring us down here for a dip and only succeed in getting us both filthy again.  Clearly, I am a tactical genius.”

“This is why we’re not officers,” Hound replied sleepily.  “Let other people do the planning.”

“Do you think we could plan on shifting over far enough to reach the water?”

Hound stirred, groaned, and subsided again, wrapping an arm around his mate.  “I’ll get back to you.”


End file.
